


learning curve

by vaporstretch



Series: commit to memory [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Injury, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaporstretch/pseuds/vaporstretch
Summary: “You know,” Atsumu manages to say after a forceful swallow. “I would have never imagined that the first time I’d be taking your pants off, it would be in this kind of situation.”“Yeah?” Sakusa catches on to the game he’s playing. “What did you have in mind then?”Atsumu squeezes out a small laugh despite the urge to simply melt into an obscure puddle. “Just not standing up, ideally.”“You’ll never know,” Sakusa banters with ease. “A time might come when we can be a tad bit impatient.”
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: commit to memory [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983235
Comments: 12
Kudos: 296





	learning curve

**Author's Note:**

> here's part two!! and yes it still rather short i'm sorry for that. please enjoy i guess lol
> 
> anyway follow me on twitter maybe for more updates and shenanigans https://twitter.com/vaporstretch__

Nothing particularly noteworthy or as radical happens the night after they shared their first kiss. However, it would be entirely unfair to dismiss the way the relatively innocent movie night had affected the subsequent series of events between them. After all, it’s been a rather slow uphill battle of reluctance and heightened prudence over the past three or so months and finally, they were able to see tangible results.

The second time they held hands was exactly the following day when they had finished a match, emerging victorious but tuckered out as the team eventually melted into the seats of their bus after an exuberant round of congratulatory exchanges. 

As usual, Sakusa and Atsumu sit beside each other. It’s not new to anyone. But when the bus is finally quiet, soft snores filling the small space of the vehicle, Sakusa eyes his boyfriend slumped and pliant and his head tilting forward dangerously. He fluidly captures Atsumu’s jaw with his hand and tips his head so it leans on his shoulder instead. This, on the other hand, is new and Sakusa is grateful for the face mask that conceals the creeping blush on his cheeks. 

A tunnel soon comes into view and when the bus rolls through its blackhole of an entrance, inevitably engulfing the bus in darkness, Sakusa places his hand on Atsumu’s unguarded one and curls his fingers over them. He feels giddy and he momentarily curses himself for being too excited over such a trivial and minute act of physical affection. He’s not a teenager for heaven’s sake, he thinks to himself. But as the length of the tunnel stretches on in a seemingly endless dim haze, he relishes in this secret encounter of skin against skin and Sakusa wishes for it to last for as long as it can.

***

It had happened way too fast: the toss that carried the unwavering faith Atsumu had in his spikers, the approach made by Sakusa that was both pure muscle memory and an impregnable confidence in his setter, the leap that took Atsumu’s breath away, the spike that punctuated the offensive play, the unfortunate fall back to Earth, and the misstep that had ended tragically when Sakusa crumbles to the ground bent over in pain.

In the split-second window of opportunity that had arisen, Sakusa had raised his head, gritting through the searing ache in his knee when he caught Atsumu’s gaze and he mouths an ‘I’m okay.’ Atsumu could only nod, but his jaw was clenched and that’s when guilt began to take root inside Sakusa.

The wing spiker had to be benched for the rest of the match and luckily for the Black Jackals, they managed to snag yet another win, but only by the skin of their teeth. Sakusa was really a valuable asset in their starting lineup and when the bad landing had resulted in a sprained knee, the team had to adjust. It wasn’t easy, especially with concern heavily twisting in their setter’s chest, the sensation very quickly turning into fear that had caused Atsumu’s stomach to drop when he saw Sakusa getting assisted off the court. But Atsumu was quick to recalibrate and shift his focus. They had to win. He’ll make sure they’ll win. So that one point Sakusa had given them wouldn’t go to waste.

***

Atsumu accompanies Sakusa along with their coach to the hospital after the game. The sprain was bad and Sakusa had to allow himself to completely limit his physical activities for the next two weeks so he can heal up. Good news is that it won’t hamper any future performances if he’s extra careful during the recovery process. Atsumu finds peace in that bit of information. After all, this is Sakusa Kiyoomi. A man who has mastered being careful and being cautious.

They retreat to Sakusa’s bedroom upon arriving in the Black Jackals dormitory. Once comfortably seated on his impossibly soft mattress, Atsumu takes Sakusa’s crutches from him and leans them against the wall by the foot of his bed.

“You still wanna shower?” Atsumu asks, eyes landing on the injured knee. 

It was probably a stupid question because Sakusa was definitely going to say yes. He never misses a post-match shower even if he’s already taken one in the locker room. It was routine for Sakusa and Atsumu knows how the clockwork exercise of his routines can be the fine line between a more serene state of mind and one just on the brink of resolute restlessness. But out of consideration for his injury, the setter makes the inquiry nonetheless and relief washes over him when Sakusa doesn’t furrow his eyebrows at him in response.

A sigh slips out of Sakusa as he unhooks his face mask then peels off the jacket he’s worn over his hoodie, pristinely folding it to avoid wrinkling the fabric. “Yeah, I mean I need to. But it’s just--”

“I can help you,” Atsumu blurts out and when it hits him what the consequences of assisting his injured boyfriend would entail, his eyes widen involuntarily, shocked by his own offer. 

“I-I mean,” Atsumu scrambles in his attempt at backtracking, but it was quickly dismissed by Sakusa who has already put a hand up.

“It’s okay,” Sakusa tells him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll manage.”

"Are you sure?" And Atsumu picks up the neatly folded jacket so he can toss it in the laundry later. Sakusa never wears any of his outerwear more than once in a row after all.

There's a beat of silence and Atsumu regards the seemingly calm exterior of his boyfriend and how he impressively is able to weigh in on matters with a level-headedness he could only aspire to have.

"Maybe I'll need a  _ bit _ of your help," Sakusa confesses. "I suddenly just had an image of me possibly slipping and it's not exactly, well,  _ ideal _ ."

Atsumu can't contain the amused snort that comes out of him. "Way to psych yourself out, Omi-kun."

The wing spiker rolls his eyes at him before he pushes himself off the bed then balancing his weight on his good leg. Atsumu quickly catches him with his left arm while his right hand reaches out for the pair of crutches. Sakusa fumbles slightly, but he eventually is able to prop himself up and Atsumu let’s go of his hold. Sakusa finds himself reflexively chasing after the contact and he wishes that Atsumu would just let him cling on to him for a second longer. Perhaps he would if he asks, but of course he doesn’t. 

"I'm just...I feel bad," Sakusa says instead. Then he holds Atsumu’s gaze steady, looking straight into the setter’s honey brown eyes with an intensity that is usually reserved on court during a game. "I'm  _ not  _ going to burden this team. I'm  _ not _ going to burden you."

A hand reaches out to hold Sakusa's head and the wing spiker can feel his heartbeat quicken at the contact of Atsumu's palm against the expanse of his cheek and jaw.

"Hey," Atsumu whispers. "You are  _ not _ a burden. Accidents happen. Just get better, okay?"

The tenderness of it all proves too much and a chunk of Sakusa's defenses falls away as he tilts his head and leans forward to slot himself against the crook of Atsumu's neck. Their height difference makes it rather uncomfortable especially with the way the crutches dig into his armpits, but then Atsumu returns his vulnerability with an embrace, reassuringly warm as it seeps through the layers of their clothing.

A week ago this wouldn't have been a remote possibility. The entanglement of arms, the nervous rise and fall of chests pressed against each other, mouths so dangerously within the perimeters of the other person's neck. Who would have thought hugs could be this intense? A week ago, neither Sakusa nor Atsumu would have known. But now they do.

“So…,” Atsumu’s hot breath grazes the sensitive shell of Sakusa's ear causing the latter to instantly freeze up. “Do you still need my help?”

Sakusa removes himself from the embrace, making a show of rearranging his crutches as he stands a bit more upright to distract from his flustered state. He clears his throat and entirely avoids looking at Atsumu. “I uhh would very much appreciate that.”

_ He’s so fucking cute,  _ Atsumu thinks and before he swings the door open to usher his boyfriend out, he makes sure to gently ruffle the curls on his head, partly to let out the fondness that’s been threatening to burst at his seams, and also partly to tease him because if the opportunity to tease Sakusa Kiyoomi presents itself, one must grab it at all cost.

The stark tinge of pink on Sakusa's cheeks turns three shades darker as an unamused scowl forms on his face.

“Ahh there’s the Omi-kun I like,” Atsumu says cheekily. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

***

There are three bathrooms in the Black Jackals dormitory, just enough for the number of players on the team. Sakusa chooses the one closest to his room as usual. He enters first, the rubber tip of the crutches emitting squelching noises against the moist tiled floor. Someone must have cleaned it, he notices. 

Atsumu then trails behind him, and he hangs Sakusa’s freshly laundered towel on one of the command hooks attached to the wall, then the plastic bag to be used as a makeshift wrap on the shower knob.

“I uhh realized I haven’t thought this far,” Atsumu admits. 

Sakusa doesn't say anything and instead makes his way to the tub where he settles on its porcelain lip.

"Well don't just stand there," Sakusa says, offering the crutches to the bewildered setter. 

"Right. On it," Atsumu gathers the crutches in one hand then returns his attention to his boyfriend.

"Are you really going to watch me strip?" He utters it with such casual forwardness that it's almost easy to miss the recurring red heat on the tips of his ears.

As much as the very scenario itself is enough to send Atsumu in a fit of panic, the more impish side to him readily rises to the occasion and matches the challenge posed to him by his boyfriend.

“I’ve seen you change a million times in the locker rooms, Omi-kun,” he says, and there’s a lilt to his voice and a mischievous upturn of his mouth . “Unless  _ you’re  _ putting meaning into it.”

“Fine then,” Sakusa doesn’t indulge him any further and proceeds to lift his hoodie with a fluidity that almost irks Atsumu because no one should look that simultaneously graceful  _ and  _ hot while removing a hoodie.

Regret flourishes through every fiber of Atsumu’s being as he stands a mere two feet away from one topless Sakusa Kiyoomi whom he is  _ alone  _ with. He proceeds to make futile attempts at pushing away thoughts of waxing poetic about the enticing slopes and edges of Sakusa’s bare arms, shoulders, and torso and the carefully placed moles by his collarbone and the inside of his right upper arm and on his rib. He’s seen it a million times, like he’s said, but it’s different when it’s not in a smelly locker room surrounded by a handful other people and there’s a game to focus on. Also, it’s never  _ this  _ obscenely quiet.

“Hello? Are you actually spacing out?”

Atsumu sees Sakusa waving the hoodie for him to collect. “Also why on Earth are you standing so far away? You’re supposed to be helping, remember?”

“You don’t have to be so bossy,” Atsumu pouts as he takes the hoodie from Sakusa and throws it over his shoulder.

“You’ve got to be more  _ efficient _ ,” Sakusa emphasizes the last word. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you about this in the first place. Anyway, help me stand up. I’ll need to remove my sweatpants.”

Now if Atsumu has never been alone with a naked Sakusa, he’s definitely never been alone  _ and _ has touched his bare upper body. But he guesses there’s a first time for everything.

_ Why couldn’t he have taken the pants off first? _

After successfully helping Sakusa up, the latter slips an arm across Atsumu’s shoulders and it’s quite literally taking everything in Atsumu’s power to not lose consciousness over the close proximity of Sakusa’s bare chest and exposed collarbones which Atsumu is effectively regarding as the most beautiful part of his boyfriend’s body. 

“This is annoyingly tedious,” Sakusa grumbles, exasperated. He tries to hook a thumb inside the elastic of his sweats, but the snug fit makes it particularly arduous to try and shimmy it past his waist.

“Hold on,” Atsumu pinches a piece of the fabric near the pocket area and helps push the sweatpants down. Their combined efforts result in success and the black material of Sakusa’s boxer briefs begins to peek out. 

“You know,” Atsumu manages to say after a forceful swallow. “I would have never imagined that the first time I’d be taking your pants off, it would be in  _ this _ kind of situation.”

“Yeah?” Sakusa catches on to the game he’s playing. “What did you have in mind then?”

Atsumu squeezes out a small laugh despite the urge to simply melt into an obscure puddle. “Just not standing up, ideally.”

“You’ll never know,” Sakusa banters with ease. “A time might come when we can be a tad bit impatient.”

_ Who is he? The fuck? _

They manage to pull the sweats all the way down and it pools at Sakusa’s feet. There’s a bit of awkward shuffling as Atsumu assists Sakusa in stepping out of his pants.

And suddenly the realization flashes in the forefront of Atsumu’s mind, blindingly quick and searingly hot like a lightning strike--his boyfriend is in nothing but his boxer briefs and his taller figure is draped over Atsumu.

_ I’m going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. _

“I’ll take it from here,” Sakusa says quickly. “This one’s easier to deal with because it’s not like they’re pants. Thanks, you can go now."

It's how Atsumu feels relief swell in his chest that oddly is immediately overtaken by a feeling akin to disappointment. 

_ What the hell was I assuming? _

He nods wordlessly then guides Sakusa in front of the shower and by the white, plastic bath stool which Atsumu eases Sakusa on to.

"I'll just call you if I need anything else," Sakusa informs him. "Thanks again."

"But your brace though," Atsumu glances at the outstretched leg then to the thick plastic bag they've cut up earlier and now hangs limply on the shower knob. "Still need me to help you wrap it up?"

"Hmmm I think it'll be wiser to put it on when I don't have any other garment to remove," Sakusa replies. "That way nothing will snag at the wrap." 

_ Right. Of course. What were you thinking, Atsumu? _

The silence that swoops in thereafter is almost suffocating only to be punctured through with the sound of Sakusa clearing his throat.

"Yes, right," Atsumu exhales. "I'll go now. Just holler if you need anything."

Sakusa doesn't say anything else and just watches Atsumu, almost with a wariness that makes the setter hasten his leave.

The sliding door closes with a soft click behind Atsumu and he releases a heavy exhale before walking to the laundry room to place Sakusa's pants and hoodie in the wash. After pouring in the appropriate amount of detergent and then turning the dial, Atsumu finds himself slumping against the hard wall facing the washing machine. Just a few moments ago, he had engaged in what might have been the most extreme assault to his senses.

It all continues to linger--the brush of firm skin that somehow was able to permeate through the barrier of his clothes, Sakusa's distinctly clean smell turned heady when the distance between them becomes next to nothing, and the drop of his voice when he's saying things he really shouldn't have been saying to Atsumu especially in the predicament they're in. 

Atsumu feels warm in ways that make him ironically shiver and absentmindedly he presses two fingers against his bottom lip.

_ I want to kiss him.  _

The ache has never been this ardent, this acute and severe. Atsumu blames that fateful evening when they shared their first kiss because now that he's had a taste, he just wants more. 

_ I can't do this to Omi-kun. I need to hold back. _

But Atsumu's name itself symbolizes everything about his values and mentality. Hungry. Things are only about to get a lot more difficult.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh i really had no intention of turning this into a series, but it's here now so there's no going back *internally screaming*
> 
> like i said in my notes from part 1, i'm not entirely sure how long this series is going to be. the slowburn and awkward sexual tension has been fun to write so we'll see. also not sure if the rating will change. probs will flip-flop between rated G and T idk. anyway, i hope ya'll enjoyed this new installment uwu
> 
> p.s. i'm on twitter so: https://twitter.com/vaporstretch__


End file.
